Harry Potter and the Myth of the Silverstar
by Robbin McGroin
Summary: Arthur Weasley has gone missing while Harry and his friends are just trying to get their Fifth year started when a great mystery befalls them.
1. Chapter One

***JKR is a god in her own right. Don't sue me. I'm just a kid from Glasgow, Montana. Go Fighting Scotties!  
  
HARRY POTTER AND THE MYTH OF THE SILVERSTAR  
  
Chapter One  
  
Harry Potter was no ordinary boy. His sinister Aunt and Uncle were all too aware of that. They made his life an absolutely miserable experience for almost the first decade of his life. Sometimes, he wanted to get back at them over the pain and suffering the Dursley's had caused him, heaven knew he had the ability to inflict everything they'd poured on him and more right back at them. Harry decided to play things the safe way. Besides, if he did decide to torture them in the same ways that they had metaphorically raped him, he was secretly afraid that he would enjoy it. That prospect scared the socks off of him.  
  
It was two weeks until he was able to escape from hell and go back to the only place he knew of where someone possessing his quirks would accept him. The magical world of humanity was a swirling ribbon, which wound through the global population almost completely unknown. Wizards knew of other wizards of course, but it was a Muggle far and few between that had any clue whatsoever about the unexplained phenomenon that seemed to plague life from time to time. While the Muggles looked for the Loch Ness Monster, People like Harry and his kind liked to hide in the shadows and laugh at the silly dolts who believed that a real live creature was out in those waters.  
  
Harry was in his bedroom, looking out the window hoping that his best friends from school were sending him a message, but the sky was depressingly clear, especially for England. He wanted to see an owl, any owl, coming toward him. Even his own beloved Hedwig was not with him, since she had not returned from her outing the night before. "Ron, Hermione, somebody. . .."He muttered to himself.  
  
This had been a particularly dull summer. Following the events of the previous school year, two months with the Dursly's was less stimulating than an evening out to watch the neighbor's new paint dry. Hopefully, this school year, there would be nothing rivaling the Tri-wizard tournament. Just once in his school career, he would have liked to have nine months of normalcy (normalcy in Wizarding terms.)  
  
The sound of light footsteps met Harry's ears. His horrible Aunt Petunia was on her way up to yell at him about something. He hoped he could get out of this tirade by merely having to spend the rest of the day out in the front yard clipping the hedges. He figured he might even luck out and get the opportunity to trip up his great hulking sod of a cousin on all of the leafy debris. Watching ol "Dudders" stumble and fall on his puggy nosed face would at least be a change in the perpetual doldrums.  
  
"You'd better get down in the yard." Petunia whined through the door. No doubt she was attempting to listen in and see if he was up to no good. "Vernon's going to want that hedges done. Preferably before he gets home from work. . . Especially if you think you need to eat tonight."  
  
It was a good thing there was a closed door between Harry and his Aunt. For as long as he had been with the Dursleys, Petunia had used food as a way of trying to completely control Harry's actions. Unfortunately for Harry, her deplorable ways had worked to some extent. It hadn't been until just after his eleventh birthday, and he'd been at school for a few months, that he'd started to fill out his elbows and knees body a bit. All truth be known, Harry could very well have starved to death as a small child. It was only the stigma of having a ward under her care parishing, that kept Vernon and Petunia from neglecting their nephew to the point of murdering him.  
  
Harry trudged down the stairs and went out into the yard so he could get a start on his chores. He noted to himself that the Dursley's house was in a bit poorer condition that he remembered it being when he was growing up there. He guessed that was what happened when the family slave was liberated. He picked up the hedge clippers and began to start on his chore for the evening. When he'd been at it for just a few minutes, he heard a screech that sounded something like a human come from the hedge.  
  
"Bloody Hell! Harry! You nearly took my head off with that one!"  
  
Harry dropped the hedge clippers. "Ron?" He questioned. "Is that you?" All of the sudden, he felt awfully silly talking to a bush.  
  
"No, it's the Queen Mum!" The bush responded.  
  
Harry pushed his glasses up a bit father up his nose. Even after four years of exposure to the ways of the magical world, there were times when he was just flat out confused. "What are you doing--"  
  
"Well, well--If it isn't my Cousin. The Freak!"  
  
Harry's blood turned to sludge. It just had to be Dudly.  
  
Dudley Dursley was a hulking mass of human flesh. At the age of fifteen, he tipped the scales at a whopping 290 pounds. He was lucky that he could still breathe well enough to walk on his own. Even though he was stupid and too fat to be very quick, it didn't stop him from being one of the meanest creatures Harry had ever dealt with in his entire life. Even Draco Malfoy was capable of some altruistic actions, even if they did directly benefit himself more than anyone else.  
  
"Talkin' to the bush are ya? Wha-? No human is willin' to even look you in the eye because you're such a ruddy freak?" Dudley took a swat at Harry. If any curious neighbor had been watching, it would have looked like a friendly clap on the back. To Harry, it was like being hit with a warm side of beef. "It must be a real pain, and I mean a real pain, to know that you've got no friends--But then nevermind, that would require you to have had friends in the first place so that you'd know what you were missing!"  
  
Dudley was dragging one of his beer swilling, rugby playing, hooligan buddies over for supper that evening. Harry had to deal with none other than Piers Polkiss standing right in his face. "Your hair looks like ass Potter." In typical Piers and style, the wooly thug hauled off and hit him as hard as he could in the stomach.  
  
Piers and Dudley laughed until tears came to the corners of their eyes. They kept laughing all the way into the house. Harry, on the other hand coughed until he nearly fell over in the grass. Oh, if he'd had his wand handy. . . .  
  
"Those wretched bastards!" Ron said.  
  
Harry looked up to see his lanky friend standing above him, hedge clippers in hand. "Oh, Ron."  
  
"If it wouldn't scare the crap out of them and get you in a world of trouble, I'd stomp in there and give them a piece of my mind." Ron was angry to the point that his ears were about the color of his hair.  
  
Hair. . . .  
  
Once Harry was able to breathe again, he stood--And started to laugh. "You're right. I nearly did take off your head."  
  
Ron looked confused for a moment and patted the top of his head to discover that a good deal of his hair was missing. "Bloody--"  
  
"Bald may be a good look for you." Harry stole a quick glance at the house to make sure that his Aunt wasn't spying on him. "Ron. What are you doing here?" 


	2. Chapter Two

Hello, I just wanted to say thanks to VyingQuill for dropping me a review so soon. I'm going on vacation for a couple of weeks. I'll try to get more posted if my family lets me anywhere near a computer. Yeah, family bonding. . . .I'll definitely start posing again in June.  
  
HARRY POTTER AND THE MYTH OF THE SILVERSTAR  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Arthur Weasley felt as though he was caught up in a spider's web. No matter what he did, he couldn't break away from whatever was binding him. With nothing but darkness on all sides in every degree leading away from him, he had little to tell him where he was. In fact, he did not know at all. . . . He clearly recalled getting up for work on August the Sixth, breakfast, arriving at the Ministry, but, it was only moments after that he was uncertain of his actions.  
  
He heard what sounded similar to a dripping pipe somewhere in the great expanse of blackness. He was probably in a basement somewhere or horror the thought, a cave.  
  
Arthur's biggest concern was for his family. By suppertime, Molly would be absolutely beside herself! He fought back the urge to haul off and try to hit something since every move he made something bound his limbs tighter to his body. Soon enough, he wouldn't be able to breathe.  
  
"Who are you!" He cried into the void. "Why have you got me here--Like this?"  
  
Silence.  
  
And the nearing beams of a dull lantern.  
  
"I was beginning to think you'd never wake up." A smokey voice accompanied the lantern. "The curse usually wears off in a couple of days. Two weeks is a long time. I'd almost given you up for dead."  
  
"Two Weeks." Arthur was in shock. He fell back into his bindings. What of his family?  
  
+++++  
  
  
  
Harry tiptoed down the stairs hoping that the creaking wood didn't wake anyone up. He hadn't gotten the hedge done that afternoon. Vernon had been irate, especially when he noticed the damage that Ron had caused to the shrubbery. The bush was gone, and Harry had predictably been stuffed in his room and not allowed out until it was time for him to clear the table and wash the dishes.  
  
He wanted his first stop to be the kitchen so he could pilfer a pear or a dinner roll at the very least. At the age of fifteen, he was still growing very quickly. This year's birthday treats had disappeared quickly this year. Harry pushed on through the kitchen and gently eased the back door open. Ron should still be hiding out in the alley by the dustbins. Uncle Vernon had come roaring up the drive in his newest Grunnings car before Harry and Ron had a chance to speak.  
  
"Ron?" Harry peered over the short fence and looked for his friend. "Ron-- Are you there?"  
  
A black cloak was suddenly hurled to the ground. The end of his wand emitted a short whiff of smoke. "It's bloody cold out here."  
  
Harry stared at his friend and wanted to laugh. Ron looked awfully silly in his Chudley Cannons T-shirt and blue jeans that were a good three or four inches too short. Not to mention the new haircut-- "Well, I'd have let you come into the house, but I'm not even welcome there."  
  
Ron shook his head. It didn't matter. "We've got a problem."  
  
Harry pulled his pajama top a bit closer to his skin. With that comment, it suddenly became much much colder outside. "We?"  
  
Harry had never seen Ron so close to tears before, even when he was being teased to the point that that he looked like he'd rather take death than another day of dealing with the heckles. "Ron, what's wrong?"  
  
"It's my Father." He couldn't get it all out in one try.  
  
The dark haired teen didn't like the sound of this at all. The mere thought of something being wrong with Arthur made the roots of his toenails tingle.  
  
"He's gone missing, and not even the Ministry can find him!" Ron was exasperated.  
  
A light had gone on in the second floor of the house. "I don't know what the heck you're doing down there boy, but I'd get my ungrateful carcass back in the house if I were you."  
  
Uncle Vernon had come to rain on Harry's depressing parade. "I'll be right in. I forgot to take out the rubbage from under the kitchen sink."  
  
"You should have thought of that earlier." He sniped back at his nephew. Now there were a couple of lights flashing on in neighboring homes.  
  
Harry shifted a glance back to Ron. This was a sticky situation. "I think the Chatsworth's Cocker Spaniel has been in the garden again! I just stepped in--"  
  
"Enough out of you boy," Vernon growled and slammed the window shut. The light was out seconds later.  
  
"My Mum is absolutely beside herself. We don't know what to do." Ron started talking even before the window got shut.  
  
What makes you think that I do? Harry questioned himself. "We'll get something figured out."  
  
+++++  
  
  
  
"I've been following your career, Arthur." The Voice was saying. "You've become rather infatuated with Muggles and their way of life."  
  
Arthur was struggling to attempt to see just who or what was speaking to him, but the dull glow from the dying flame couldn't cast light far enough to illuminate anything more than the speaker's black clothed belly.  
  
"If you like those blasted creatures so much, why haven't you tried to run off and join them."  
  
"What am I doing here?" He realized at that moment, that even if the light was better, his glasses were gone. He couldn't see the details on his hand outstretched at arm's length without his glasses. "I'm so low on the Ministry's food chain, that I assure you, you'd get more for letting me go than keeping me."  
  
"Have you no self-esteem. Do you hold yourself and your position in such a low regard that you are unable to even compliment yourself?" The Voice huffed and began to turn away.  
  
"Wait!" Arthur pleaded. "You've got to let me out of here. I have a wife and a family. They need me." He began to fluster. Surely his ears were as red as the remains of his hair.  
  
"I need you more."  
  
And the light was gone. 


	3. Chapter Three

HARRY POTTER AND THE MYTH OF THE SILVERSTAR  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Sneaking away from the Dursley's in the middle of the night was not a horribly difficult feat to accomplish. It was amazing sometimes what one could do beneath the noses of the incredibly stupid, especially when they were asleep. Harry and Ron slipped out the back door after a short reconnaissance mission for Harry's broom and invisibility cloak.  
  
Ron almost choked when he sank his teeth into the mushy pear. He was too hungry to give much of a thought to it, but he had hoped that his first thing to eat in the last sixteen hours would at the very best be palpable. "This whole situation is whacked Harry."  
  
Harry didn't respond. As of yet, it wasn't any stranger than many of the tasks that had befallen him in the past, save this one involved a person who looked out for him and had his best interests in mind. "That's why we need to get Hermione and try to see if we can find Professor Lupin or maybe even Sirius." He wasn't counting on his godfather though. The man was still wanted for murder and therefore, still on the lam.  
  
"Hermione won't be happy to see us," Ron muttered. He had hoped that his friend would have come up with something better than to hunt down the congregation's resident bookworm. He couldn't wait for her lecture. They wouldn't even touch down in her yard before the "You shouldn't haves" began.  
  
"I doubt it, but she'll understand. She likes your parents. She'd never want to see anything bad happen to your family." Harry tossed his pear into the yard. It was just too gross to eat. "Let's go before it starts to get too light out."  
  
Ron grunted in agreement and joined Harry on the Firebolt. Once they were airborne, Harry turned back to his friend. "I hope you know where she lives. Because I don't have as much as an idea other than she's somewhere in Britain."  
  
"Don't worry, I know just where she's at." Ron chuckled to himself. "And it's probably the local library."  
  
"Just tell me where to go." Harry took the broom up a bit higher as to miss the power lines.  
  
++++  
  
Hermione Granger was barely awake when she stumbled out of bed. She hadn't slept very well the night before, having had a strange dream about her school friends. Once she brushed her teeth and washed her face, she was almost ready to face the day. Secretly, she liked being at home in the summertime. It allowed her a break from the constant pace at Hogwarts. At home, she could study what she wanted and when she wanted to do it. There was something nice about having control over one's own schedule.  
  
Her mother was in the kitchen reading the Muggle paper and having a morning cup of coffee. She walked over to the percolator and poured her own. She set it down at her spot at the table and decided to go ahead and pick up her paper. The Daily Prophet usually seemed to arrive about an hour after the normal paper. She stepped into her father's goulashes and opened the front door of her house. She continued down the walk and to the mailbox at the gate. She was standing in her mother tulips and reaching for the lid on the box when she uttered a greeting. "Oh, hello Harry. Hello Ron."  
  
The boys stood there and were pleasantly suprised and a little bit dismayed when she started to turn and head back into the house. "That wasn't so bad," Ron commented.  
  
"Harry! Ron! What on Earth are you doing here!" She was certainly awake now. Her coffee was going to wind up getting poured down the sink. As much as she loved her friends, it always meant trouble when they just seemed to pop up in places. "What have you done?"  
  
Ron was quick on the draw. "We haven't done anything."  
  
"This time," Harry added.  
  
Ron elbowed Harry. If any of them got too silly, it probably stood to increase the chances that his father was not going to be found. "You've been reading the papers, right?"  
  
"Of course I have, Ron. I need to keep up on what's happening in the Wizarding world." She tucked her copy of the Prophet under her arm and swept a wild clump of her hair out of her face.  
  
"And nothing has come across to you as being odd?"  
  
"Odd, Ron?" Hermione was being a bit sarcastic. "You're missing half your hair and are standing in my front yard. I'd say that's a bit odd."  
  
"No! I mean in the papers." He was getting a bit wound up.  
  
Hermione noticed then, that Ron seemed to be worried about something. It was one thing to see him when he was a bit teed off, but he had something huge on his mind. "Everything seems okay."  
  
Harry stepped up to pull his friend back a bit before he got so into his emotions that he tipped over. "Just tell her Ron. The sooner the better."  
  
"Tell me what, Harry?" Hermione was concerned now. It wasn't like the boys to hide much of anything from her. They usually told her everything and then she would chide them about how wrong it was.  
  
"The Ministry is keeping everything covered up! They just don't care!" Ron had had enough he collapsed to the ground like a child who didn't get candy at the supermarket. "He's my Father and they don't give a damn!"  
  
++++  
  
"Thank you for a lovely breakfast Dr. Granger." Harry was certain he could eat the table if it hadn't been made of metal and glass.  
  
"You're quite welcome." Hermione's mother was intrigued by the people her daughter associated with. She'd met the boys once, very briefly a few years ago. It was nice to see that her usually headstrong and lonely child had some companionship. "Can I get you anything else?"  
  
"We wouldn't want to impose any more than we already have," Harry said.  
  
"I've got to be going my dear. With your father away at that conference, the patient load at the clinic is a bit daunting. I'll probably be late." She went over to her daughter and gave her a hug. "Don't be afraid to call if you need anything."  
  
"I won't." Hermione held her breath until her mother's car had left. She stood in her own kitchen clad in her bathrobe, her two best friends nearby, and one of the most genuine people she had ever had the honor of knowing had vanished into thin air. The Ministry had nothing to say about the incident, and the Weasley family was not allowed to discuss the issue with anyone, especially the press. Ron had managed to get away when his twin brothers accompanied him to Number Four Privet Drive in Surrey, and they turned him into a hedge until night fall, or until Harry nearly took off his head.  
  
"Any ideas about what we should do?" Ron asked her.  
  
"Can I at least get a shower and some clean clothes on first?" Hermione tried to smile, but couldn't bring herself to do it.  
  
Ron and Harry nodded.  
  
"You mind if we catch a show on the television?" Harry questioned, hoping that if he were given a bit of a distraction, that Ron would feel a bit better.  
  
"Watch whatever you like," she said before she disappeared up the stairs.  
  
++++  
  
The Voice was back.  
  
"You have something that you need to do for me."  
  
Arthur sighed. "No."  
  
"I fear that you do not understand." There was no dull lantern to accompany this visit. "You will do as I order you."  
  
Arthur was so desperate to go home and see his family he was almost willing to listen to what the Voice had to say, but he was a better man than that. "No."  
  
"Auditor eris dicto pares," The Voice whispered. It was a simple spell, but it held Arthur helpless. He had no choice but to pay attention to what was said to him. If the spell was allowed to continue, he would soon have no choice but to follow what the Voice said and fulfill his wishes.  
  
"I won't let you do this to me," Arthur tried to shout as she attempted to block the spell. If he'd had his wand this would be an easy task, but as it was, he could barely breathe.  
  
"This is what you are going to do for me. . . ." 


	4. Chapter Four

HARRY POTTER AND THE MYTH OF THE SILVERSTAR  
  
Chapter Four  
  
  
  
Hermione stepped out of the shower and wondered just what on earth she was going to do about Ron and Harry. Since she didn't know any of the details about the situation, it was very hard for her to imagine just what was wrong with Arthur. Mr. Weasley was such a nice person. It seemed hard for her to even come up with an idea as to why he could be missing, whether it was his idea or not.  
  
She hurriedly got dressed and bobby pinned her damp mass of hair to the top of her head. When she got downstairs, the boys were asleep in the living room, while some horrible action movie played on the television screen. She nearly didn't wake them up. The exhaustion and stress was enough to make Ron look as though he'd not slept in his entire lifetime.  
  
"So, who wants to tell me all of the details?" She walked up to the sofa where Harry was sprawled and flopped down by his feet. "Then we can talk about potential solutions."  
  
The longer the girl listened, the more she remembered just how leery she'd been of the Ministry and especially of the press when school had gotten out in the spring. She'd still have Rita Skeeter in that jam jar if it weren't for the potential murder charges that could befall her should that nuisance have died in that jar. "I don't think we should talk to any one in an authoritarian position."  
  
Ron, who was just about to start a retort to Hermione's expected, "Let's tell (fill in the blank) and they'll help us," when his brain comprehended what she had to say. "What?"  
  
Hermione leaned toward Ron. "If no one has made a mention out of it, then there's someone pretty far up the ladder at the Ministry that wants this whole thing to stay covered up."  
  
Harry noticed Ron was turning from a tired grey to an irritated flush, as though a great revelation had befallen him. "What's up with you, Ron? You don't look too good. If we were at Hogwarts, I'd say you need a short visit to Madam Prom Frey."  
  
"What do you want to be that sodding sack of dung Malloy has something to do with it!" Ron hopped up from Mr. Granger's recliner chair. "That's why no one is saying anything and no one will talk to Mum. That slimy git it feeding the Ministry more hush money than they've ever seen in their entire careers. Lucius has always had it out for my dad, and we all know it. That scene a few years back in Flourish and Blotts was only a little bit of the feelings between them." Ron looked down at his two seated friends. "My dad isn't rich and he isn't very high in the Ministry, but people listen to what he has to say. Jerks like the Malfoys and the rest of those Death Eater types think that he's a Muggle coddler, but they also think he could be a threat. . . ."  
  
Hermione shivered. Malfoy and his cronies hadn't crossed her mind. It made sense though. Lucius had the power to nearly overthrow Albus Dumbledore as the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Covering up the kidnapping of Ron's Dad couldn't be too difficult in comparison to that. "What should we do?"  
  
Harry, who wanted nothing more than to pick at the fray on the arm of the couch, pushed his glasses up a bit farther on his nose. He could think of a multitude of things he'd rather do than face a situation like this, but there was no way they could stand by and merely wait for Arthur to come strolling back up the walk to the Burrow. "Let's see if we can find him."  
  
Hermione gave a nod of approval. "If we don't try and find him, there might not be anybody else looking--"  
  
Ron chewed a bit at his lower lip. The Ministry wasn't going to help, and at this point he didn't know quite who they could trust. To involve Professor Dumbledore would inadvertently wind up involving others. "Okay," he said, a sliver of hope emerged in his voice. "Where do we need to begin?"  
  
+++++  
  
Dry heat. . . .  
  
. . .And a splitting headache.  
  
Arthur woke up wanting water more than he had ever wanted it before in his life. He wanted to open his eyes, but the scorching sun was also bright enough to leave him blind. He had his elbow crooked over the bridge of his nose in an attempt to block out the light, squeeze out the pain inside his skull, and think of how he'd kill the monstrous thirst he'd worked up.  
  
So much time in the darkness had left him ill prepared for awakening in such a blinding radiance. He half expected to hear the Voice tell him something, but knew deep down that the Voice was out of his life for a while now. Eventually, when he judged himself to be tired and thirsty, but otherwise functional, he slowly stood himself up. The sun had started to set and all he could see on all sides was desert.  
  
He wanted to find himself waking up in his own bed so he could tell Molly that he'd had the most peculiar dream-- His biggest question at that moment was that he wanted to know where he was at so he could get back to Molly. Oh stars, did he miss her.  
  
The lanky red headed man began to walk in the direction opposite the setting sun. He assumed that it would send him toward salvation, or into becoming a decent meal for some of the local wildlife.  
  
++++  
  
"I don't think that Lucius Malfoy is just going to let us search his home." Hermione had her hand firmly planted on her hip. "I'm sure he's also not the type to let in a florist, singing telegram, pizza boy, or any other person who could possibly intrude in on the Dark secrets hidden in his manor."  
  
"She's right Ron." Harry had a pen and a notebook and scratched a few things off a list he'd made up. There were just some things they would have to live without for this outing. His Aunt and Uncle weren't about to welcome him back into their house so he could retrieve his magical devices for a clandestine search for a man who'd blown up their chimney the one time they met him. So far between he and Ron, they had the clothes on their backs, an invisibility cloak, a plain black coat the Chatsworth's cocker spaniel had weed on when Ron was pretending to be a bush, and Harry's Quidditch broom. Harry didn't even have his wand. The three of them were almost as good as a bunch of Muggles. Not to mention that they were broke on top of it all!  
  
They needed to come up with a viable plan before Hermione's mother got home from work that evening, otherwise they'd have to either sneak off against her wishes and potentially have her send the police after them immediately, or they could just not be home when she pulled in. They could have a lovely note on the dining room table and a descent explanation for their disappearance. At least someone would be willing to admit that they were gone.  
  
Hermione took over the pen and notebook from Harry. "That's all we've got?"  
  
"I'm afraid so." Harry refused to sound defeated. "Ron was too busy trying to be a bush to bring anything along, and I skipped out on the Dursleys."  
  
"The twins are going to turn inside out," Ron added. "They're the ones who got me out without Mum finding out about it, and now we're sitting here planning on going out looking for Dad without them."  
  
"Three is already hard to do." Hermione said honestly. She knew that Fred and George would be steamed, but it was better that she go with Ron and Harry. Someone had to make sure all of the boys asked for directions and all of that counterintuitive male behavior. "Don't worry Ron. Your brothers will get over it, and we'll find your father."  
  
++++  
  
A pair of headlights wound about a curve just ahead on the dirt road. Arthur felt as though he'd been wandering forever. He truly hoped that his eyes weren't deceiving him as he staggered toward the grand idea of rescue. The mere notion that there would be other human beings in a wasteland such as this almost started to strike him as odd until he firmly decided that the old adage was indeed true. Beggars could not be choosers.  
  
As the old pick-up-truck lurched and rattled toward him, a world of pain and fear lit from his burning shoulders. There were three large men in the cab of the motley Ford. The one on the nearest side rolled down the window. The crank stuck and complained, but the pane of glass finally lowered and the driver poked his head out. "Howdy. Ya'll ain't from around here, are you?"  
  
Arthur jumped toward the man, his mouth opened to yell a thank you, when almost no sound came out, he was so dehydrated.  
  
The driver and his friends turned to one another to talk for a few minutes, when they suddenly all got out of the vehicle and walked toward the obviously dazed wizard.  
  
Weasley's mind didn't understand that he was indeed being helped. His time with the Voice had left him a bit more leery around strangers than he had ever been. He dealt with all walks of life in his line of work, but panicked when three people were about to save him.  
  
"Get him Slim." The driver said to his friend. "I he don't get to the hospital, he'll get loony and die out here."  
  
Arthur started to run back into the desert shouting and singing about how he wasn't going to get caught this time. "I'm going back to my Molly!" He screamed as Slim caught up to him. "You can't keep me from her!" The lack of water and rest had taken over his mind, until a piece of underbrush tripped him.  
  
Slim pounced upon him and he fought against the much stronger, but good willed man. "MOLLY! They've got me!"  
  
Arthur was too weak from exposure to fight for too awful long, and it was then that he began to cry. He was sick, lost, and confused. All he wanted was his beloved wife. "I don't know what she'll do without me. . . ."  
  
The driver approached with a blanket and wrapped it around Arthur's shoulders. "Don't worry none. We'll get you back to your Old Lady."  
  
Arthur looked up to them and decided it wasn't worth the struggle to object and that they truly acted like the wanted to help him. Perhaps they weren't operatives for the Voice after all. "You promise I'll see my Molly again?"  
  
"Sure do," the driver said. "Now you better settle down some for the ride back into town. I don't know how the heck you got out here, but I'm not gonna ride forty miles with a screaming crazy."  
  
Arthur rode quietly in-between the driver and Slim, while their friend sat in the back of the truck with the fishing poles. It wasn't until the city limits sign came into view that he was able to start putting some other random pieces of his situation together. He was sure all of the thinking was starting to make him light headed. He started to laugh. A great revelation had just come to him. Slim started to give him a funny look when Arthur blurted out: "But you're Muggles!"  
  
Slim continued to give an odd look, while the driver whistled and shook his head. "So that's what you folks over in England call us?"  
  
He laughed. ". . . .muggles. . ."  
  
"Round here, we just call ourselves Texans." 


	5. Chapter Five

Yeeh Haw! I'm glad that the few people out there who've read this think it's good. I hope you think that this next chapter is too. A special thanks to lau2ur2a for being brave enough to come back. With all of the stories out there, I'm especially thankful for repeat customers.  
  
Harry Potter and the Myth of the Silverstar  
  
Chapter Five  
  
Fred and George Weasley were scared. They'd never seen their mother this upset, ever. The time she blew up at them over borrowing their father's car and rescuing Harry from his family seemed tame compared to the fit she had over this most recent incident. The twins sat in their room, absolutely unsure of what to do. It had seemed like a good idea at the time to send Ron after Harry, but now that Ron hadn't returned . . . . Bill and Charlie, who'd come back as soon as they'd heard the news, had to call someone to the house to get Molly settled down. She was tearing the house apart and hurting herself in the process, only because she couldn't bear to take it out on her sons.  
  
Her boys were good, all of them. She knew deep down that the twins were only trying to help, and that Ron wanted to do something by himself (without the aid of family members) to help in the effort of finding his father, even if it had involved Fred and George in the earliest stage. She had to take out her fear and anger on something or someone. Molly had wound up in the kitchen, literally hacking everything she could wield a knife through, until the entire room was laying in shredded bits. Her knuckles were scraped nearly to the bone. She was weary and had nearly taken her other hand off several times during her tirade.  
  
A car pulled up in the driveway to the house. Fred and George peered out the window. They'd been sure that Bill had called the Ministry and that one of their father's coworkers was on their way out. The car in the drive was not a Ministry automobile. In fact, it was a classic Mercedes sports car, one of the really fast ones with only two seats. The twins were instantly intrigued. They didn't know anyone who owned a car like that, especially a wizard who owned a car like that.  
  
The ignition cut and the engine died. The driver's side door opened and a dark haired man in Muggle clothes got out. Bill went out and welcomed the man, taking the "doctor bag," the driver had set at his feet. The men shook hands before pulling on another into a friendly embrace. They hadn't seen one another in years and regretted that they had to meet again under such circumstances.  
  
George choked. "Holy cats!"  
  
Fred didn't understand what his brother was pointing at. Yes, the car was a babe magnet, but it wasn't worth flipping out over. He kept watching as Bill let the man into the house. "What George?"  
  
"It's Professor Snape!"  
  
++++  
  
Hermione had a funny look on her face. "I don't think this is it."  
  
Ron and Harry shrugged. They thought it was. They'd spent two days looking for the illusive Malfoy's estate. The three of them had already been kicked off of one grumpy old man's property. "We'll never know unless we go up and check it out."  
  
"We should have gone to Hogsmeade and done some research at the library there." Hermione was irritated. She was not going to search all of the British Isles by foot. "There's no evidence of magic of any sort here." She had her wand out and was casting some little charms that sought out entryways or anything that was supposed to have been disguised by magic. "We'd know by now if a Witch or a Wizard lives on this estate. And I'm telling you. This isn't the place."  
  
Ron, who was so blinded by the search for his father that he was willing to do something as crazy as turning over every rock in the country. "You need to stop waving your wand around. You'll get us caught."  
  
Harry chimed in. "You do realize that we are looking to dive head first into a nest of Death Eaters."  
  
"I don't care." Ron said. He really didn't. He was willing to face Voldemort himself if it meant that he could get to Arthur. "Let's keep going."  
  
Hermione was becoming even more irritated. She wanted a to bathe and eat more than just junk food during the last weeks of her summer vacation. "I'm the one who's been paying for things. I think we need to find a place around here where we can find a wizarding population of some sort and take a fireplace back to Ron's house."  
  
The red head stopped in his tracks. Money! She just had to bring up the issue of money, didn't she? "I'll pay you back," he grumbled. "Just don't give up on me, because I can't give up on Dad." He turned to face her, his skin was blotchy, and he looked like he was on the verge of death. "I'd pay all the gold in the world to get him back."  
  
She knew he was right. She walked up to him and gave him a hug. "I know you would, but remember, there's no reason to waste our time by looking the wrong places altogether. We need to regroup our efforts."  
  
Ron, defeated, gave a weak nod. Hermione was always right for some reason. "Well, if we can cut across this old duff's sprawl, we can get back on a main road the eastern side of the estate."  
  
"Then we can seriously figure out where Malfoy's live," Potter offered. "Don't worry Ron. We'll get this whole thing figured out." We'll do it if it kills us, he thought to himself.  
  
With nothing but a half gone can of orange Tango between them to drink, the main objective when they got to the road was to get some water in their systems, especially since all the soda did was make them even more thirsty. They pushed through the hedges, leaving the crushed can in the driveway. After having made sure they didn't get within a rifle shot of the house, the trio found themselves out in the middle of a pasture. In another time of year, it would be easy to imagine the rich people running around on horseback desperately seeking some poor little fox.  
  
"How can these people honestly like owning all of this?" Ron was growing ever more impatient. "It's not like you can mow it down by yourself or anything."  
  
"Imagine all the gnomes you could pull out of here," Harry commented. He could see it now, an entire staff of people out in these meadows plucking the ugly little creatures up out of the ground and hurling them off into the sunset.  
  
"Mum would go mad." Ron said with something of a laugh in his voice. "I don't think she could take it."  
  
Now that moods were beginning to lighten up a bit for the first time in days, the three of them dared to talk instead of walking in silence. Of course, Quidditch was the main topic of every snippet of conversation. What the boys wanted to know was how someone as completely physically inept as Viktor Krum could be such an amazing seeker when his posture left him looking like he was about to fall off the front of his broom. Hermione told them that they weren't being very nice, and that Krum was a very nice and respectable young man. That only garnered her a good round of goading about how she loved the bow-legged hunchback. She took it in stride.  
  
After a good three-quarters of an hour, the edge of the property hadn't shown up yet. Harry was beginning to think that they'd managed to walk in a giant circle. After all, this sprawling green grassland didn't seem to have any distinguishing features. He saw a clump of trees in the distance and suggested walking toward the growth. The other two didn't see much problem with that and began to head in that direction.  
  
Hermione tried to teach them songs that were currently popular on Muggle radio. Harry would laugh and say that he'd heard each song, no matter what, too many times, that it had been way too overplayed. Ron would wrinkle his nose and gag. That kind of music all sounded the same to him. He found it a miracle that any sane creature could stand a constant diet of such stuff. So much for her idea for passing the time. She shrugged the boys off and kept right on singing.  
  
The trees were close enough to see individual branches and other such details now. At this time, the shade was looking pretty darned good. Perhaps they would take a short nap, then look for water, then figure out where the Malfoys made their hideout. They aimlessly wandered toward the trees, not noticing the sound coming from the grove. They were exhausted and listening to Hermione's singing. They paid little attention to anything as they stumbled into the trees and sat on the ground.  
  
There it was, a clip-clip-clip sound that sounded awfully close. Harry was the first to notice it. It seemed to have a familiar ring to it. While his brain tried to match it up to something, a hair-raising scream came from the same direction as the sounds. Harry, Ron, and Hermione screeched a good one.  
  
A horse exploded from behind a large stand of undergrowth, nearly throwing it's teenaged rider. "Woah Girl! Settle down. 'Taint like it was no rattler."  
  
The mare came to a stop and the boy in the saddle jumped down. "Well look what we got here Misty. We got some trespassers."  
  
Hermione was the first to make a move. She was uncertain of what to make of this young man, other than he was a bit darker than any of them and spoke with a strange accent that made her almost unsure if he was speaking real English. He was a fairly stocky person, who was wearing almost the exact opposite of what the British elite wore out riding. He had on boots that pointed at the toe, blue jeans, a striped button down shirt, and a straw cowboy hat. His light blue eyes perfectly set off his freckles and sun-bleached hair. She couldn't help but smile. "We're awfully sorry. We're just trying to make some time. . ."  
  
The young cowboy laughed. "I wouldn't worry any. My uncle is gone for the day, and I'm just out ridin' for the afternoon. There's nothin' sayin' that I saw anything out here."  
  
"Oh, thank you." She tucked some more of her unruly hair behind her ear. "We need to get out to a main road. We're sort of hitch hiking around for a few days, until our parents catch us."  
  
"Ya'll look like you could use some lemonade." He took off his hat. "Follow me back up to the house. I don't know this place all that well, seein' is I'm not from 'round these parts. But Uncle Marshall has some maps and things like that."  
  
At the mention of a drink, the boys, who were initially put off by Hermione's sudden interest in flirting, were more than interested in this kid. "That sounds great," Harry said.  
  
"My name's Billy." He plopped his hat back on his head. "And it's nice to be meetin' ya'll. There just don't seem to be all that many kids 'round here."  
  
The tiny bit of apprehension Harry felt, especially after hearing the sounds and the scream in the woods, drifted to the wayside. "I'm Harry." He nearly lost his hand when Billy shook it.  
  
"Ron," Weasley said. "Nice to meet you."  
  
"And I'm Hermione." She was amazed at how soft his hands were, even though it was evident that Billy had done some serious work. "Now, about this lemonade?"  
  
++++  
  
He wanted to wake up and find his beautiful and always wonderful life's companion with her arm draped over his chest. Arthur was alone. He shivered and tried to remember everything that had happened to him when he realized that he was in a bed that had stainless steel railings on the sides. An IV apparatus was hooked up to his left hand, and his glasses lay just out of his reach on some sort of a table.  
  
What had he done to deserve this?  
  
"Good morning Sir." A plump nurse with a badge that read "Trudy" walked into the room with a tray in her hands. "I hope you're hungry, 'cuz I don't think you've had anything to eat in a while. Ya'll look like you could use a good meal."  
  
She put the food on the wheeled table and pulled the cover off the tray. She then pushed a button that hired the upper half of the bed. She got that table over his lap and helped him put on his glasses. "Now, eat up."  
  
"Thank you," Arthur looked at the woman's chest. "Trudy. I'll certainly enjoy it."  
  
"Remember to push the red button on the rail of your bed if you need anything."  
  
"I will." He looked to the rail and saw the button with a cryptogram on it. The red button she had said. The first thing Arthur wished for was some of Molly's cooking. The toast was soggy and the eggs were dry. Molly never let that happen.  
  
He chewed on a bit of the toast. For the first time, he wondered just what the hell he was doing in a painfully obvious Muggle establishment, and second, where the hell he was. 


End file.
